


All The Way

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cops of Cascade PD receive a challenge to strip for a good cause.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Way

**Author's Note:**

> This was a challenge from my slash buddies, to write a 'Full Mony' Cascade PD style. It also happened to coincide with the Senad Striptease challenge. Thank you to Bast as always for betaing and general wickedness! To Allison and J 

## All The Way

by K9

Author's disclaimer: The officers of Cascade PD are not mine, they belong to Petfly. I'm sure Petfly don't let them have nearly so much fun though.

.C for bullying and nagging. And, last but certainly not least, to Eileen, Clare and Lindsey, without whom life would sometimes be interminably dull!

* * *

Poker night at the loft was in full swing. Henri Brown dealt the cardsSimon had refused to let Jim do it, knowing that he could see through the paper-thin plastic, if he held it at a certain angle to the light. 

Rafe joked with Blair about a recent case where Blair had posed as a woman, and Jim's 'date', to get into a nightclub. This lurid little tale was still the talk of Cascade P.D and grew more wild and fantastic at each telling. 

Joel Taggert munched on Blair's low calorie snacks, his whittling waistline testament to Blair's encouragement and support. 

Megan and Jim traded insults, the vitriolic Australian more than a match for Cascades finest. 

Listening to the humorous jibes, Steve Sharpe smiled and laughed as the jokes flew and the warmth of his fellow officers wrapped around him like a security blanket. It had been a bad few months for him, since his young son, Richard, had been involved in a hit and run incident. His sweet six year old with the bright, cheerful smile and the dancing blue eyes had been reduced to a broken wreck, his tiny, shattered body lying in a hospital bed almost unrecognizable. If it hadn't been for the guys he now shared a beer and a joke with, he had no idea how he and his wife, Rachel would have coped. As if the shock and fear wasn't bad enough, the hospital bills were mounting up and he wasn't sure how much more treatment they could afford. Richard was still in need of so much reconstructive surgery that he was sure the final account would end up looking like the national debt. That didn't even begin to take into account the rehabilitation he needed. 

When Jim had invited him to the poker night, Rachel had insisted he go. They were his friends and they wanted to help him chill out a little. 

The beer had been flowing all night and everyone was more than a little relaxed. 

"So Steve, how's Richard?" Megan asked. 

"Oh he's doing okay. Still a way to go, but he's heading in the right direction," Steve replied with a sad smile. 

"Any luck with getting help with the hospital bills?" Blair enquired. 

Steve sighed, "No. I approached one company regarding funding, they said they might consider it. But I had to put up ten thousand dollars myself. Shit, like I wouldn't if I had ten thousand," he sighed. 

"What if you could raise the money somehow?" Rafe suggested. 

Megan sniggered, "You could always get the guys from Major Crimes to do a 'Full Monty'," she laughed. 

"Hey, great idea," Blair giggled, "How about it guys? I'd choreograph it for you. I used to help out at the U in the theater project," he smiled at the shocked stares. The suggestion was met with snorts of derision. 

"Oh come on, Sandy," Megan needled, "You know that these guys are too anal and repressed to do anything like that. I mean, a man has to be confident with his body, his sexuality and his 'equipment' to handle something like that," she grinned directly into Jim's face. 

"Well, yeah," Blair sighed, seeing exactly where this was leading. 

"What do you mean, 'repressed and anal'?" Simon said suddenly, "Do you mean just the men of Major Crimes, police officers, American police officers or men in general?" he asked irritably. 

"I can only comment on the 'American police officers' I know of course, but I'd say you guys typify what I'm getting at. All macho and tough, but you'd blush like a virgin on a wedding night if you had to lose your strides in public," she chuckled. 

"Says who?" Jim said defensively. 

"Says me, mate," she replied eyeing the big cop aggressively. 

"Oh really?" Jim challenged, "You willing to put your money where your mouth is, Connor?" 

"Jim?" Simon said recognizing 'that' look on his friend's face. 

"I'll do better than that, Ellison. If all the cops sitting here, get up on stage and take off _all_ their clothes in front of an audience, I'll not only put up a thousand dollars, I'll also do all your paperwork for a month." 

Jim glared at the brash Aussie, his jaw twitching, "You're on!" he said finally. 

"Hey..hoo..Jim, whoa man," Brown said wide-eyed. 

"What's up, Brown?" Jim growled, "You gonna let kangaroo lady here insult us that way? Don't you have any pride?" 

"Hey, Jim. But.." Rafe said with discomfort. 

"Jim...'naked'?" Simon chipped in. 

Megan cackled, turning to Blair she grinned, "See what I mean? No balls," she sneered. 

"Hey lady, I can assure you _I'm_ not lacking in that department," Brown pouted. 

"I would love to see you laughing on the other side of your face, Connor," Rafe said with annoyance. 

"I'll do it!" Joel grinned. 

Everyone turned to see his smiling face, Jim grinned widely, "Joel, you are an officer and a gentleman!" 

"What about Sandburg?" Simon asked. 

Blair grinned, "Oh no, she said the 'police officers of Major Crimes'. Like you're always telling me, man. 'I'm not a cop'. No, I'll choreograph the moves for you, help you get it together. Man, trust me...this is a 'cop thing'," he sniggered. Throwing back at them all the things that they used against him daily. 

"So, is it a deal?" Megan asked, surveying the faces. One by one, they nodded. "I knew you'd see it my way eventually." 

"Connor," Jim leaned in close, "I am going to dig out the most boring, most complicated, shittiest jobs I can for when you lose," he said smugly. 

Megan's feral smile caused Jim to shudder, "And _I_ am going to be in the front row, with a video camera and a measuring tape!" she laughed. 

* * *

"Jim, I can't believe you let Connor talk us into this," Rafe whispered as the guys gathered at the loft for their first official 'meeting'. 

"What's up, Rafe?" Jim grumbled, "Doubting that you have the 'equipment' for it?" 

Rafe blushed slightly, "No. I just think it's kind of undignified for police officers to be stripping in public!" he hissed. 

"'Undignified'? This coming from the man who got drunk and tried to hook the Commissioners daughter at the award ceremony last year, in front of the _entire_ Washington police force," Jim sneered, "and _failed_." 

"That's different!" Rafe exclaimed. 

"Yeah, always is when it's you making a fool of yourself. Think of it this way, at least we're all gonna look like jerks!" Jim grinned. 

"Come on, guys. Let's get started," Blair called, "Now I've sorted out some music and I have the steps running around in my head. I'm going to keep this simple, since I accept that some of you are rhythmically challenged," he gave a grin, "So, lets see, We'll start with three of you at the back, er...Jim, Simon and Joel and Rafe, H, and Steve at the front. Now all you have to do is, on the third beat of the music, those at the back walk forward, between the guys at the front and stand still. Simple?" 

"What the hell's he talking about?" Simon whispered. 

Jim shook his head, "Beats me!" 

"Guys, it's simple, you listen for the third beat, then match your steps the same beat and move forward like so," Joel said, demonstrating. 

The other men watched in amazement as Joel strutted his stuff, even adding a twirl at the end. 

"Oh, way to go, Joel!" Blair exclaimed. 

"Hey, man. You done this before or something?" Henri asked with a scowl. 

"I know a few moves from my youth, kid. Yeah!" he grinned at the shocked expressions. 

"Shit!" Rafe whispered. 

"Okay, now lets all try. I'll put on the music and on the third beat...you go," Blair pressed the button on the tape recorder and the thudding baseline began. 

"Sandburg, you gotta be kidding me," Jim gasped, "Not 'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy', please!" he laughed. 

"Hey, I'm the artistic director, right? I choose the music. Now get with it Ellison!" Blair said with a pout. 

"Jeez, I really don't believe I'm doing this," Jim muttered. 

"I seem to remember that this is _your_ fault. Someone wanted to wipe the smile off Connors face, remember?" Simon grumbled, "Never mentioned the egg we'd have on ours, though, did you?" 

"Just gimme a break. You were the one 'offended' about her insulting American manhood," Jim groused. 

"Will you two please shut up and pay attention?" Blair demanded, "It's like taking a Kindergarten class, here." 

"Is he _always_ this bossy?" Simon asked. 

Jim nodded, "Yeah. Little guys are always the same, it's a power thing," he muttered just loud enough for Blair to overhear. 

The younger man shot his partner a withering look, "When you're ready, gentlemen." 

On the third beat the three men moved forward, Jim and Simon watching their feet as though they were planning to break free of their body and escape into the wilderness. Unable to see the men in front, they both careered into the backs of Rafe and Steve who fell forward with an 'oof'. 

"For God's sake, will you look where you're going?" Rafe groused, rubbing his knee- the same knee that just crunched as it hit the floor. 

"Guys, pay attention, please!" Blair implored. 

Two hours later, Simon limped from the loft, his toe swollen where he'd slammed it against the wall as he tried for 'the turn'. Rafe still nursed his throbbing knee and Steve was sporting the beginnings of a black eye, where Brown had elbowed him. Blair ran his fingers through his hair, he watched the casualties of war struggle away, and wondered what possessed him to agree to do this in the first place. "See you guys Tuesday," he called. Feebly they all grunted and waved. Closing the door, he turned to see Jim, still with a finger in his mouth. He'd tried to catch Simon as he fell and bent his finger back. "Still hurting?" he asked, inexorably watching as Jim slid the finger in and out of his mouth, curling his lips around it and gently sucking. Blair's mouth went dry. 

"Yeah, "Jim said finally, "What a fiasco, huh?" 

Blair strolled over and threw his arm around his partner's shoulder, "Not the best I've seen, but we have time to improve it," he said softly. 

"Diplomatic to the end, Sandburg. What you mean is we were shit!" Jim said with a half grin. 

Blair thought about the statement for a minute, "Yeah, man. You were shit!" he grinned. 

Jim laughed, "Okay then, Fred Astaire. Why don't you show me what we're supposed to do?" he suggested. 

"Okay," Blair said moving over to the cassette recorder and pressing the button. The music began to thud. Blair went through the moves with ease. 

Jim watched inexorably as his partner strutted and posed, pretending to strip off the clothing as he went,  <Why doesn't he just do it for real?> he thought hungrily, <Now _that_ could inspire me. > Jim smiled at the idea. He'd been lusting after his partner for months and he was praying that Blair felt the same way. Blair had made it pretty obvious that he enjoyed watching as Jim strolled around the loft, wrapped only in a towel. It didn't take Sentinel vision to notice the bulge in the younger man's pants sometimes when they were laughing and teasing, pretending to fight or wrestling on the floor to see who got to eat the last twinkie bar. Hell, the man was a vision of loveliness. But, he'd probably go ape of course, if he knew what had happened at the P.D a few days before.... 

* * *

"Hi, Detective Ellison," a fresh faced young man smiled, "You seen Blair? He asked me to meet him for a coffee." 

Jim looked the youngster up and down. He was fresh from the academy, tall: well over six feet. Had a healthy crop of dark hair: damn him to hell, Jim thought bitterly. The epitome of American manhood and he was looking to date Sandburg. Blair had 'come out' to Jim about a month before, admitting that he was bisexual and though he preferred women, some men just took his fancy and he hoped that Jim wouldn't be too disappointed or upset with him. Jim had hoped that he came over all surprised and understanding, when in fact, mentally he was doing cartwheels and screaming 'Hallelujah!' The main drawback in these revelations was that Jim had let loose all the repressed feelings he'd had for his partner from day one and they were now manifesting themselves in some deeply unpleasant ways. 

"I don't think he can make it, we have a date," Jim said offhandedly, flicking through the report in his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw the young man's face drop. 

"Y..you have a 'date'...with Blair?" he stuttered. 

"Yeah, for lunch. Sorry!" Jim smiled the coldest smile he could muster. 

The young officer backed off nervously, "I'm sorry, Detective Ellison, I didn't know," he said before fleeing like a frightened rabbit. 

Jim allowed himself a smug smile. If he could drive off all the competition, Sandburg would get so horny he'd have to throw himself at a grumpy, follicley-challenged old Sentinel eventually. At least that was the theory. 

At that moment, Blair breezed his way into the bullpen. "Hi Jim, I'm late. Has anyone been asking for me?" he said cryptically. 

Jim looked up with an innocent air, "No, Chief. Should they have?" 

"Nah, guess not. You free for lunch?" Blair said with a tinge of disappointment. 

"I guess so," the older man replied with a grin. Yes, he knew that what he'd done was mean, petty and spiteful. But, as they say, all's fair in love and war. 

* * *

...."So, now do you get it?" Blair's voice broke through Jim's musings. 

"Wh..Oh, yeah. No problem." 

"So you want to try it?" Blair asked. 

Jim blinked, his mind racing. What was it Sandburg was saying? He looked at his guide in puzzlement. 

"Earth to Ellison...are you there?" Blair smiled. 

"Sorry Chief," Jim tried his softest smile. 

The younger man sighed heavily, "You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?" 

"Sure I have, but why don't you run through it again?" Jim smiled as apologetically as he knew how. 

"I'll do it with you," Blair suggested, grabbing Jim's hand and hurling him to his feet. 

<Ah, if only you meant that, Sandburg,> Jim thought pitifully, following his young partner out onto the cleared floor area. 

After two minutes, Blair stopped the tape, "Hell, you might have five heightened senses, Jim, but your sense of rhythm stinks!" he sighed once again. He thought for a moment, "Okay, lets try this. You stand behind me, put your hands on my hips and literally just follow every move I make, okay?" 

Jim gave an almost imperceptible mewling noise. Sandburg _must_ be doing this on purpose. Like it wasn't bad enough watching him wander from the shower all drippy and delicious, but now they were playing 'Dirty Dancing'. Too much for this sad old cop. "Sandburg, I don't think that's gonna work," he shook his head,  <'cause I might have to wrestle you to the floor, mount you like a prize bull and screw your brains out.>

"Jim, do you want to go through with this challenge or do you want Megan to win?" Blair needled, knowing exactly which buttons to press to get his partner champing at the bit. 

"Okay, okay. Go ahead," Jim clenched his teeth as he moved in behind Blair. <I'm not going to embarrass myself. I'm not going to jump him or come in my pants. I'm just going to follow a few simple dance steps....Oh my God, look at that ass wiggling!>

"Right, one, two, three and....oof!" Blair fell headfirst as Jim crashed into his legs, landing heavily on top of him. "You know, Jim," he gasped for air, "You could be right about this not being the way forward." 

* * *

Lying in his bed that night, Jim tried to take stock of his life. Here he was, forty years old, an ex-marine, soldier, cop. He'd seen most things in life- didn't like many of them. He wasn't _unattractive_ , he never had much difficulty in getting women. He knew he was a good cop and was respected by those he worked with. So, why in God's name was he making a total fool of himself over a twenty-nine year old hippie, who wouldn't consider him as a sexual partner if he were the last man on earth? <But, Sandburg looks, he definitely checks me out when I wander around half naked,> he thought warmly. 

#That's 'cause you're a lab rat to him, Ellison. He _studies_ you, remember. He can look and still think Sentinel statistics. He doesn't find you attractive, just interesting.# 

Jim turned over in bed, his erection bumping against his thigh heavily, "Oh please. Give me a break!" he whispered. Looking under the cover at the desperately straining cock, he sighed, "I know how you feel, I really do, but you _have_ to stop embarrassing me in public," he pleaded. It throbbed and ached in reply, "Hell, I want him as much as you do, but short of throwing him on the bed and ravishing him, I don't know what else to do," the ache grew deeper, "Oh yes, you like that idea, don't you? Well, little guy, life ain't quite that simple." Jim closed his eyes tightly and hoped that his body would just calm down and get a little rest. 

* * *

The bullpen bustled with activity as usual. Jim strolled out of Simon's office smiling. The Captain was sitting in a smart suit, behind his oh, so important desk, with his foot in a bowl of water, trying to take down the swelling in his toe. Jim had almost hurt himself laughing when Blair had refused to let his boss get out of Tuesdays rehearsal, insisting that he could supply some herbal potion to bathe the foot in, which would reduce the swelling in time. 

"Sandburg!" Simon had pleaded pitifully. 

Blair had set his jaw, "No excuses. You'd better be there, or I call Megan and inform her that she's won," he'd said forcefully. Oh lord, he was so impressive when he was being forceful. Uh, down boy. 

Jim wandered over and sat at his desk. Blair had skipped off to the drink's dispenser to get them both a coffee. Suddenly, his partner hove into view with Sarah from accounts in tow. She was around his age and very pretty, in a common sort of way, Jim thought irritably. Blair was flirting madly, Jim could always see the signs. The smile, the body language, they shrieked 'take me', and she probably would have too, if there had been room on his desk to rest her ass. 

"Chief, come on we gotta go," Jim called. 

Blair looked up, the dreamiest smile spread across his face, "Okay, man. I'm coming," he said. 

<I'll bet!> Jim thought with extreme annoyance, "Now, Chief!" he insisted. 

"Call me?" Sarah simpered. 

"Sure," Blair grinned. 

Jim grunted, <Over my dead body,> he decided. 

* * *

"So where we going?" Blair asked as the truck sped along 34th. 

"Murder scene. Derelict building down by the harbor," Jim relayed the information, then took an almost sadistic pleasure in watching Blair squirm. <That'll cool your ardor, for starters,> he inwardly sniggered. 

"So Jim. How do you feel about taking off your clothes in front of an audience?" Blair asked suddenly. 

Jim glanced at his partner, "I'm okay with that, Chief. I have nothing to hide," he grinned, "Why d'you ask?" 

"Oh, I collided with Rafe this morning. He's kind of 'anxious' about it," Blair smiled. 

"Ah, Rafe's a wuss. He must be worried that he won't measure up," Jim laughed, still furtively watching his guide. 

"Oh, I don't think he has anything to worry about there," Blair mumbled. 

Jim's face almost dropped through the floor of the truck, "W..what's that supposed to mean?" he stuttered. 

Blair just smiled that damnable enigmatic smile, "Nothing man," he replied, casually looking out of the window. 

Jim gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles whitening with the pressure. <Nothing, huh? Well, we'll see!>

* * *

"Oh man, I can't believe how quick this has come around," Brown sighed, as the men once again gathered for a rehearsal. Blair was busy pushing back the furniture and getting everyone a nice relaxing beer. 

"Hey, Brown," Rafe whispered, "You noticed Jim behaving strangely?" 

"Like we'd notice?" Brown said in a low voice. 

"No, I mean stranger than usual. He's been looking at me really weird the last two days. You know how lions watch wildebeest just before they pounce? Kinda like that," Rafe said uneasily. 

"Maybe he's got the hots for you," Brown teased, watching Rafe's face flush. 

"Gimme a break, we all know that Sandburg warms _his_ sheets at night," Rafe sighed miserably, looking over at the two roommates joking, hugging and pretending to Lambada. 

"Nothing so pathetic as a love struck fool, my man," Brown smirked as Rafe flushed even further. Mentioning that he was gay was a risk, Rafe realised, but mentioning that he was attracted to Jim Ellison was insanity. Luckily, Henri Brown was a fine partner and a good friend. He had been supportive and understanding about everything. Pity he was so damned straight. 

"Okay guys. Pay attention," Blair said trying to subside the giggles that had over taken him when Jim had swung him down, almost touching the floor...then fell over. "I have something for you," he reached into a bag and pulled out a handful of very skimpy leather underwear, "Your costumes, gentlemen." 

"Man, you are joking?" Brown hooted. 

"Nope. You strip to these, then at the last beat...whip them off!" Blair grinned. 

"Jeezus, they look painful!" Simon grimaced as Blair held aloft one of the very skimpy bright red leather 'pouches'. 

"Why bright red, man?" Brown wrinkled his nose. 

"Because in case you haven't noticed, we have a wide range of skin colours here, and red will show up on everyone!" Blair enthused, "So listen up. Today, we just go through the moves again, and no one leaves until they get it right. You can take your costume home with you and try them on...they are adjustable, so we won't have any 'I need extra large' arguments. When we meet again on Friday, we are going to do a full dress rehearsal. Or should I say 'undress' rehearsal," Blair chuckled. Everyone groaned. 

"What...all of us...together?" Rafe asked nervously. 

"Of course 'all of us together', "Jim snarled, "What, Rafe. You want to give someone a 'private show'?" he eyed the younger man with malice. 

"No," Rafe swallowed hard as Jim's eyes bored into him. Almost losing his ability to think or move, he glanced at his partner with desperation. 

"He only asked, Jim. The guys nervous, he's not alone, I can tell you," Brown said with immense discomfort. 

"Shit, if he can't take 'em off in front of us, what's he going to do in front of an audience?" Jim grumbled. 

Blair placed a hand on Jim's chest. His stern gaze stopping the big cop in mid sentence. "Hey, look. It's perfectly okay to feel nervous about this, that's why we're going to do the rehearsals here, together, until you all feel comfortable," he glanced around at the serious faces and smiled, "Guys, maybe if you all stopped taking it so seriously and considered enjoying yourselves?" 

"Hey, Blair's right," Joel grinned, "Why you boys so shy? You got something we haven't seen before?" he teased, "Lighten up!" 

"Yeah, just remember that it's all in a good cause," Blair reminded them. Pricking their conscience seemed like a good way to keep their spirits up, "And we don't want Connor to win now, do we?" he asked. A general grumble ran through the room. Blair handed the tiny garments out and the men studied them cautiously. "Okay, lets get started." 

An hour later, Blair sat on the sofa, running his fingers through his hair in sheer desperation. "Let me ask something," he sighed, "I trust that you can all count to three?" 

"Can I use my fingers?" Jim said irritably. 

"I'd say you could use brain-cells, but you wouldn't have enough!" Blair raged at him, "Shit, Jim. You stood on Simon's foot _again_ and almost concussed Rafe, what you doing man?" 

"He got in the way," Jim snarled. 

Rafe eyed him warily, "It's okay, I'm not really hurt," he said. 

Blair leaped from the sofa and ran to his room. The men watched in puzzlement until the young man reappeared sporting a tribal drum. "Right, we'll go back to basics. I'll pound the rhythm you move to it." He began to thump the drum. The men stamped the moves out...forward..back..stop. "Ellison, move your ass before I kick it," Blair shouted. Jim pouted but caught up and actually began to get it right. 

By the end of the session, Blair was beaming. They had actually got the rhythm and the basic steps together..even Jim. "Guys, you're doing great. Friday, we do a dress rehearsal. Oh, and if anyone is considering 'forgetting' their costume? Don't bother, I have spares," Blair warned. 

"Okay, man. Friday," Brown grimaced. 

"Sure, Friday. Oh and guys? Thanks. We really appreciate everything you're doing for Richard you know," Steve said. 

Simon felt a lump develop in his throat, "You'd do the same for us," he said echoing everyone's sentiment. 

"Would I take my clothes off in public for you guys?" Steve teased, "No way!" 

Laughing they all left the loft at eight five two Prospect and headed home. 

* * *

"Hey, H?" Rafe said as they travelled towards his home in Browns Ford Taurus. 

"Yeah?" Brown answered. 

"Er...what about when we're on stage and we're taking our clothes off. What if we er....well, what if.." Rafe squirmed. 

Brown gave a cackle and shot his partner a sly glance, "What if you get a hard on just as Jim Ellison collides with you on the catwalk?" he suggested with a grin. 

"Yeah." 

"He'll beat the shit out of you." 

Rafe groaned and covered his face with his hand, "Much as I figured." 

* * *

"Oh man I can't believe you guys actually got it," Blair smiled as he slumped down next to his partner on the sofa, "Even you, Jim." he grinned. 

Jim looked sheepishly towards the young anthropologist. It would probably not be a good idea to let slip the fact that as a child his father made him take dancing lessons to prepare him 'socially' for his role as his fathers son. And that he had a string of proficiency badges to prove it. Of course, that really wasn't the kind of thing you made public in the army, so it had remained his little secret all these years. Plus there was the simple fact that, if he acted like he had two left feet, Blair gave him 'lessons after class'. Jim smirked to himself. "I still don't quite get the finish. Could we go through that again later?" he asked innocently. 

Blair smiled that gut wrenching, mind numbing, brain-shattering smile that turned Jim into a raging, horny animal, "Sure, Jim. It's nice to know that you're eager to learn," he said. 

"Oh, I'm always eager to indulge in new experiences, Chief," he said with mischief flashing in his eyes. 

"Good. Glad to hear it," Blair replied with a quiet smugness. 

Jim's libido was on def-con two and rising...literally. He could feel the tension spreading through his body like wildfire. He wanted Blair and damn it, he wanted him now. The 'little guy' was on full alert and threatening to salute at any minute. Jim was ready to say something, anything, to get an idea of how his roommate felt about him. "Blair?" he said suddenly. 

The sound of Jim using his given name made Blair turn to face his partner, "Yeah, Jim?" 

"Could we talk?" Jim said cryptically. 

"Isn't that what we're doing?" the younger man smiled. 

"Yeah, but I mean about 'specifics'." 

"Specifically' what?" Blair asked. 

"U.." 

Suddenly the telephone rang. Blair reached for it. Jim watched as his face lit up in a smile, "Hi Rafe, what?" 

Jim felt the passion in his loins turn to anger,  <Fuckin' Rafe huh?> he raged silently, <I'm going to do more than concuss him next time.>

"Yeah, sure," Blair said breezily, "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." 

Jim could feel the anger bubbling in him. Rafe was not getting Sandburg. Sandburg belonged to him. _His_ partner, _his_ guide, _his_ lover...eventually. But, he was obviously going to have to play this close to his chest for a while longer. If he unnerved Sandburg now, he'd rush straight into Rafe's arms... and bed. That was not an option, not in the 'Ellison' version of reality. 

* * *

"Hey guys, how's it going?" Megan asked with a sly smile. 

"Just fine," Jim said narrowing his eyes. 

"So, Jim. When do you audition for the Chippendales?" she taunted, "Of course I'm talking about the furniture company. I understand that they value old relics there." 

"Connor? I am going to enjoy the look on your face when we all come through on this!" Jim growled. 

"Nah, mate. One of you will chicken out, I'll guarantee it," she grinned. 

"You're real confident aren't you Connor?" 

"Yeah." 

"You willing to up the ante on that?" Jim baited. 

"Sure. The ladies of the Cascade PD have all chipped in and put up another thousand dollars to match mine, as long as they get the front row seats!" she laughed seeing Jim's shocked expression. He really had walked headfirst into that one. "Oh, and another thing, if you lose? You do _my_ paperwork for a month. And deliver morning coffee for all the ladies for the same month." 

Jim's jaw twitched. He suddenly realized that he'd been well and truly screwed by this spawn of Satan masquerading as a woman. No wonder he preferred guys. "Okay," he muttered. 

Megan smirked, "Great! I'll go inform 'the girls'." 

Jim sat at his desk, not for the first time wondering how the hell he'd been talked into this. Why was he so stupid as to let Connor get to him this way? 

"You okay, man?" Blair's voice rang out. 

"Yeah, Chief. Just great," Jim replied absently. 

"Oh Jim, can I borrow the truck keys for a minute?" Blair asked. 

"Sure, why what's up?" the older man replied handing his partner the keys. 

Blair turned and began to walk away, "Oh nothing important, I've just got to take Rafe down to the parking garage," he mumbled, "Won't be too long." 

Jim's face froze in an almost laughable version of a smile,  <What? Fuckin' Rafe! That guy is gonna die mysteriously and hideously _very_ soon after this show is done, > Jim thought angrily, <Now it will _not_ look good if I follow them. Nope, Sandburg hates me to go into possessive mode. But I might just accidentally shove Rafe down the stairs later! > he fumed, watching Blair and Rafe wander away together chatting. 

* * *

The truck cruised along 5th Avenue. Jim hadn't spoken more than two words since Blair had returned from the garage with a smiling Rafe. 

"Everything okay, Jim?" Blair asked, breaking the silence. 

"Just dandy, why?" Jim snapped. 

Blair struggled with a smile, "Oh, you just seem.....quiet. That's all," he said with a forced air of innocence. 

"What? I'm not allowed to be quiet now?" Jim groused, pulling his 'Sentinel in a snit' face. 

"I didn't say that. I just wondered if there was anything wrong. Obviously there isn't, so..." Blair had to look out of the window to stop himself grinning. 

Silence descended. 

Suddenly, Jim could contain himself no longer, "You having a 'thing' with Rafe?" he asked. 

Blair looked towards him with a smile, "A 'thing'?" he enunciated the last word carefully. 

"You know damned well what I mean," Jim huffed, "You sleeping with him?" 

"Why Jim?" Blair answered. 

The older man looked over at him in surprise. That was not the answer he was expecting. He was ready for an out and out denial or possibly, and heartbreakingly, a 'Yeah'. But not to have his question attacked with another question. "I er, I just...wondered," he stuttered, face beginning to flush. 

"Why? Would that bother you?" Blair asked. 

Jim chewed on the inside of his cheek, <What's the point in lying?> he thought, "Yeah....it would," he answered. 

Blair let out a deep sigh, "Well then you can relax, " he said with a quiet smile, "because we're not involved." 

"Good," Jim replied tightly, "So, what were you guys doing down in the parking garage this morning?" 

Blair strangled back a snigger, "He left his wallet at the loft last night and I accidentally put it in the glove compartment of the truck. That's all," he said watching Jim's reaction out of the corner of his eye. 

Jim pursed his lips and nodded gravely, "Right." 

* * *

"Sandburg?" Jim called from the bedroom. 

"Yeah?" Blair replied. It was Friday and almost time for the rehearsal. Blair was busying himself getting everything ready. He'd sent Jim upstairs to change into his costume and the 'special' clothing that he'd had one of the girls at the PD modify for him with velcro down the seams so they could tear them off easily. He had requested items that covered a range of pursuits. A traffic cop, a biker's jacket and leather trousers amongst other things. Of course Jim had groaned and insisted that they were going to look like the Village People and why didn't Blair just go the whole hog and have them dance to Y.M.C.A? 

"Sandburg, I can't get into this dumb leather stuff, the velcro won't line up!" Jim moaned. 

"Shit, Jim. How long have you been dressing yourself again?" Blair grumbled as he raced up the stairs. 

Jim watched as his partner bounded off the top step and in a micro-second had his hands everywhere. He was stripping off the leather trousers and realigning them properly. In the time it takes to blink an eye, Jim had a raging hard on. He was trying desperately to think of cold glaciers and expanses of nothingness, but all he saw when he closed his eyes, was Blair. The young mans hands sliding his up and down his legs, smoothing the leather against his thighs, brushing his groin with those talented fingers. 

Suddenly Blair sighed, "No wonder the damn things won't fit properly, can't you control that thing?" he mumbled. 

Jim found himself laughing, more with embarrassment than anything else, "Sorry Chief, you know how it is? They have a mind of their own," he blushed. 

"Yeah, well you tell it to get its 'mind' on dancing for a change!" Blair insisted with a developing smile. 

Jim sniggered, "I'll speak to him about this, I promise." 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Blair leaped to his feet, "You think you can manage now?" he asked. 

Jim gave him a sheepish grin, "Yeah, thanks," he said watching his partner bound back down the stairs. He was still trying deep-breathing exercises to quell his little 'problem', when he heard Simon's voice downstairs. 

"Sandburg, you have gotta be kidding me with this costume," the big cop sighed. 

"Hey, it'll look great. Why are you so worried?" Blair replied with a grin. 

"A construction worker? Gimme a break here!" 

"Look, you get to be the construction worker, Jim's the biker, Rafe's the doctor, Steve is the traffic cop, Brown the fire-fighter and Joel is the military man. All of which are female fantasies. Trust me, I've done my homework on this," Blair patted Simon's arm patiently. 

"I'd give it up, Simon. Once he's made his mind up he's like a pitbull," Jim said struggling down the stairs painfully. The leather pants hugged every contour, stretching across his groin outlining the promises beneath. They cut into the cleft of his ass, accentuating every muscle that rippled and stretched as he moved. 

Blair found himself watching as Jim crossed the floor to the kitchen, then tantalizingly bent down to reach three beers from the fridge. He tried to rip his gaze away as Jim turned around, but he was sure that the older man had noticed him watching. For a moment, their eyes locked and an as yet unspoken passion flitted between them. 

"Here you go, Simon," Jim said handing his friend a bottle, "You want it Sandburg?" he said huskily. 

Blair's shocked expression almost made Jim choke. "What?" the younger man spluttered. 

Jim sniggered, "The beer? You want it now..or later?" 

Blair rubbed his face nervously, "Er, later man," he mumbled. 

Jim smugly wandered back into where Simon was 'practicing'. He was trying not to grin too widely or leap in the air and scream, 'Yeeesss!' but the hungry look on Sandburg's face had made him feel warm and fuzzy all over. <He wanted me, I know damn well that at that moment, he really wanted me. Damn Simon for being early!> Jim thought irritably, <But play it cool, Ellison. Don't look too eager. Just keep giving him what he likes..ass shots, obviously,> he smiled widely. 

"Want to let me in on the joke?" Simon said, shattering Jim's musings. 

"It's nothing. So, you want to run through this before the no-hopers get here?" Jim almost sang out the words. 

"You're in a good mood," Simon puzzled, "Who died in prison?" 

Jim smirked, "Very funny. Can't a guy just be in a good mood?" 

"Normal human beings, yes. You...no. Especially not in leather that tight!" the bigger man chuckled. 

"Oh, I don't know. It's kind of nice," Jim nudged Simon playfully. Both were still sniggering when there was a further knock on the door and the other members of the team arrived. 

* * *

"Okay," Blair said eyeing each man, "This is it. Full 'undress' rehearsal. You have the moves and I've pulled all the shutters together and closed all the blinds. I borrowed these lights from the U, they're trained on the center of the floor, just as it will be on the night. So, we have everything we need. I'll work the spotlight and key in the music, the rest is up to you," he said noting that Rafe was looking decidedly nervous. "Everyone ready?" 

There was a general mumble of acceptance and the lights went down. 

The music began a thudding rhythm. As the spotlight shattered the darkness, the first three men strutted forward. Jim, Simon and Joel moved to the front of the stage to be joined moments later by fire-fighter Brown, traffic cop Steve and 'doctor' Rafe. The dance went well, Blair was thrilled at how quickly the guys had pulled it all together. Especially Jim, who he felt wasn't telling him everything! They went through the moves, removing garment easily and quickly like they'd been born to do this. As the music built to a thudding crescendo, the guys lined up, resplendent in their red leather thongs and on the last beat pulled the strings....lights out. 

Blair turned on the main light to see everyone frantically grabbing for the dressing gowns they'd been warned to bring, and covering up shyly. "Oh man, that was terrific!" he enthused, "You guys were incredible." 

"Jezus, I'd rather be held hostage at gunpoint," Simon shuddered. 

"Or shot at," Rafe added. 

Jim turned to his partner and smiled, "Sandburg, just promise me one thing. On the night, you don't hang around with that shut off switch. I _do not_ want Connor getting time to use her video camera." 

"You got it," Blair grinned. 

* * *

Everyone had gone home and Jim and Blair were relaxing in front of the TV. 

"I am _so_ proud of you guys," Blair said with a smile. 

"Why thank you, Chief," Jim said warmly, "So everything is to your satisfaction?" 

"Yeah, you all really pulled this thing together. I'm impressed. Especially you Jim, if I didn't know better, I'd swear that you were having lessons someplace," Blair studied Jim's face carefully. 

"Just natural talent, Sandburg, along with personality, charm and .." 

"Ego?" Blair suggested. 

Jim laughed, "That might have something to do with it," he sniggered. 

"I'm gonna say goodnight, man. I am bushed. Watching you guys expend all that energy exhausted me," Blair said pushing himself off the sofa. 

Jim tried to hide his disappointment, "Kind of early for you, isn't it?" he asked. 

"Yeah, well I was up 'til three this morning grading papers. I'll see you in the morning," Blair yawned. 

"Okay, Goodnight," Jim smiled. 

Blair wandered towards his bedroom, stretching his tried frame as he went. "Oh Jim?" he said suddenly, "The costume looks terrific!" 

Jim's face broke into a wide smile, "Thanks," he said quietly, as he heard Blair's door click shut. Jim sat for a moment before he silently screamed,  <YES!>

* * *

Jim had his nose down in the paperwork. He'd promised Blair that he'd help clear it and since he was on his 'Ellison the paragon of virtue' kick, he diligently, beavered away to get the last of the reports filed and done. Blair sat over from him, his curls pulled back in a band, glasses perched on his nose, he scribbled notes and tapped away at the computer keyboard. Suddenly, someone spoke Blair's name. 

Looking up, the young anthropologist smiled, "John? Hi," he said warmly. 

"Hi, how you doing?" the young rookie said nervously eyeing Jim. 

"Great how are you? What happened to you the other day?" Blair asked. 

Jim showed no outward sign of paying any attention, but inwardly he winced, <Oh shit!> he thought with discomfort. 

"Oh, well, Detective Ellison said you and he had a lunch date. Sorry Blair, I didn't know," John whispered. 

Blair shot Jim an angry look, "No, me neither. Look, we'll reschedule, okay?" he said through gritted teeth. 

The young cop's eyes lit up, "Yeah, great. Look forward to it." 

<I hope you have sufficient medical insurance, you hirsute little punk!> Jim thought angrily. 

"Good," Blair said with a sweet smile, "I'll call you." 

<Over my rotting corpse,> Jim added mentally. 

The young man walked away. Blair slipped off his glasses and placed them carefully on the desk. 

<Oh shit, that's a bad sign,> Jim decided. 

Turning to face his partner's desk, Blair sat and stared in silence. 

<Oh, silence is bad. Silence is _real_ bad. >

"So," the younger man began at last, "You want to make any comment on that?" 

Jim never looked up from the report in his hand, "Nope," he said shortly. 

Blair fumed, "Fine!" he snapped. Sliding his chair out, he headed towards the restroom. 

Jim looked up as Blair disappeared from view, <Ouch,> he thought painfully, <Ellison fumbles a catch.>

* * *

There were three tortuous days to go before the 'unveiling' of Cascades finest in the name of charity. 

Another couple of rehearsals had really tightened up the act and even Rafe was looking more comfortable. Blair was convinced that nothing could go wrong. Of course, that was always the first mistake. 

It was a cold and blustery Wednesday night in Cascade. Blair was grading papers, again, and Jim was shouting at the Jags on TV. The telephone suddenly disturbed their domestic bliss with its shrill tone. As usual, Jim grabbed the receiver from Blair's finger and barked "Ellison." After a few moments, he grunted and put down the receiver. "Bad news, Chief," he said gravely, "Steve just got thrown down a flight of stairs by a perp. He's broken his left leg in three places." 

"Oh my God, is he okay?" Blair gasped. 

"Yeah, he's fine otherwise. But, he's not going to be dancing for a while," Jim said miserably. 

"Oh man. That really sucks!" Blair exclaimed. 

"Yeah. That was Simon, he asked what we're going to do about Saturday?" 

Blair slumped on the sofa, "Aw, shit. Man, the routine won't work properly without six people, it's going to throw you all off!" he groaned. 

Jim sat down beside him, "Simon wondered if _you'd_ step in and do the routine with us?" he said carefully. 

Blair's face fell, "What?" he gasped, "Oh, man, no way.. _no_ way!" his hands flew in the air nervously. 

"Why not, Chief? You know the routine better than we do," Jim pleaded. 

"Jim, I am _not_ taking my clothes off in public, no way!" Blair began to panic. 

"Why not?" the older man asked, genuinely puzzled. 

"Why not? Are you insane?" 

"No, just curious. What happened to the guy who gave us all the; 'Remember it's for charity' and 'What are you men or mice' speeches?" Jim needled. 

Blair flushed, "Oh man, that's different. _You_ guys are different." 

"How? You got something we don't know about, Sandburg?" Jim grinned. 

Blair did not smile. He took a deep breath, "Jim, look at you guys. You're all over six feet tall and built like..like...'men'," he squirmed. 

"And what are you 'built like' then?" 

"Oh Jim, come on. Take off the rose tinted glasses for a minute. I'm five seven if I stretch. I don't exactly have a body builder's physique, you know? I'd look like one of Snow White's little buddies among you guys. No, Sorry man, I couldn't." 

Jim looked away sadly, "Well, if that's the way you feel about it, then I guess you're right. We're just going to have to call it off," he sighed. 

"What do you mean?" Blair said almost angrily, "Why?" 

"You said yourself, Chief, we'll be all outta whack with a man missing. We'll just have to wait until Steve is back on his feet. Shame, everyone will have to have their money back...not to mention that Connor will have won." 

Blair flared up, "No way is she winning," he pouted, "Jeezus, you really are a devious, manipulative bastard Ellison." 

Jim looked up and smiled, "Had a good teacher, Chief." 

* * *

After calling in to see Steve and picking up the 'traffic cop' costume, Jim and Blair headed home for Blair's first rehearsal. This one was going to be just in front of Jim, then tomorrow night, Friday, they would all have one final rehearsal before Saturday's performance. 

Blair sat silently in the truck all the way home. Jim was amazed how nervous his partner was over this. He had listened to the pounding of the younger man's heartbeat last night, well into the early hours of this morning. He couldn't see why someone as breathtakingly beautiful as Blair could be shy about showing off his body. 

"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked finally as they cruised down Prospect. 

"Mmm," Blair replied, "Those pants are going to be too long," he said. 

"That's okay, it's a pretty easy alteration," Jim cast a quick glance towards his nervous guide, "You're not making a big worry about this are you, Sandburg?" 

"No," Blair replied shortly. 

<Shit, one word answers. He must be terrified!> Jim thought. He pulled the truck into the usual parking slot and they both slid out. Blair grasped the bag with the costume in like a man hanging on for dear life. In a few moments, they were opening the door to the loft apartment and Blair cautiously entered, laying the bag down on the table. 

"You want to eat first or..?" Jim asked as they made the coffee. 

"You wanna be cleaning the floor all evening?" Blair whispered. 

Jim sighed, "Blair, it's just me. Am _I_ that scary?" 

"No, man. I just don't like taking my clothes off, that's all," Blair replied shyly. 

"I really don't get why someone as good looking as you is so worried about being naked?" Jim said suddenly surprising himself by voicing his inner thoughts. 

Blair's wide blue eyes flew up to meet his partners, "I...I'm just not that comfortable with myself without my clothes," he mumbled. 

"Blair, no one is going to force you to do this. If you really don't want to, we'll do it without you," Jim said. 

Blair looked at his roommate with amazement, "Do you mean that?" he asked. 

"Yes, I mean that," Jim replied. 

Blair thought for a moment, pushing the now empty cup away, he sighed, "Get the lighting ready and make sure the shutters are closed. I'm going to get changed," he decided. 

"What? But I thought?" Jim was now puzzled at this enigma that was his guide. 

"I'm just going to give it a try. If I can't take them off in front of my best friend, then I stand no chance in front of the audience," Blair smiled weakly, "But I won't know until I try. 

The loft fell into darkness, the thrumming beat began. Jim threw the light switch and Blair strutted into the beam.  <Oh my God,> Jim gasped silently, <Are we talking major fantasy material, or are we talking major fantasy material?> he thought hotly, as Blair began to peel off the traffic cop uniform. The jacket was peeled back, first from one shoulder, then the other, before it was flung on the floor. Blair's eyes were focussed on the light and Jim's face behind it. The shirt went next, carefully unbuttoned, let fly loose while he turned and shook his ass at the audience, then discarded carelessly. Jim's mouth dried. 

Still wearing his shades, Blair peered over the top of them and winked at his 'adoring crowd'. Jim's chest tightened. 

Going through the steps with grace and confidence, Blair pulled out the belt from its loops, curling it over and slapping it against his thigh. Jim's groin tightened. 

As the music increased, so Blair slid his hands erotically down his legs, to find the loop that would pull the clothing clear in one easy movement. Then, with a jerk of the hips, he flung the pants away, revealing his skimpy leather thong. Jim died and went to heaven. 

With the last few remaining bars of the song to go, Jim regarded his guide hungrily. His curls were bobbing around his beautiful face, still bearing the black shades. The light danced across his surprisingly muscular chest, playing with the contours and density of the hair that spread on his breastbone, before converging into a line which ran the length of his taut belly and disappeared beneath the leather, covering his 'assets'. 

He had short but powerful legs, covered in a fine sprinkling of hair which almost sparkling silver in the harsh light. Finishing off the look, he still wore the leather motorcycle boots. Jim was speechless, brainless, boneless and transfixed. 

The final beat rang out and Blair pulled the red leather string, flinging the thong across the room. Jim's mouth dropped, the younger man had indeed been blessed with so much. Beauty, brains, talent and courage. But a merciful God had gone one further and blessed him with the most beautiful cock he'd ever seen. Obviously the length of leg was no indication of the length of any other part of the anatomy. Without thought and acting on pure instinct, Jim suddenly found himself kneeling in front of a stunned Blair. In a blink of the eye, he had wrapped his lips around the delicate flesh, pulling it into his mouth, feeling it wake and stir. From somewhere, he heard a low moan and hands tightened on his shoulders. 

"Jim!" Blair's voice hissed. 

Jim felt the cock begin to fill, he licked the head gently, at the same time his fingers gripped Blair's ass, pulling him close. 

"Oh my God," he heard his companion gasp, and the fingers digging into his flesh, tightened painfully. It took only moments before Blair was rocking back and forth, his hips trying not to thrust too hard. Jim's talented mouth had brought him to hardness very quickly and Blair's legs had begun to shake. Suddenly tasting the bitter liquid that warned of impending release, Jim began to suck, harder. He felt Blair's thrusts grow more urgent, the younger man's head was now thrown back and he was emitting animal growls and yelps. 

"Oh God, oh god, oh god!" Blair yelled as he came in a frenzy of thrusting and clawing. 

Jim continued to give Blair all the attention he demanded, until he slumped forward, bonelessly, across Jim's shoulder. 

The older man grabbed his young lover, pulling him into his arms, "You okay?" he asked. 

"Shit, Jim," Blair mumbled, "It's more usual to applaud." 

The older man laughed loudly and hugged Blair tighter to him, "You were fantastic," he said, kissing the young man lightly. 

"Weren't so bad yourself," Blair sniggered, "Of course, if the whole audience do that, I'm a dead man!" 

* * *

Lying curled in Jim's arms seemed like the perfect place to be, Blair thought, as the sun began to peek through the skylight. The last few weeks had been funny, irritating, surprising and revealing. Blair had known when he told Jim that he was bi, that Jim was attracted to him. Hearing the big cop yell ' Yes, Blair, more..more, oh god, yes!' in his dreams every night was kind of a give-away. But he didn't see why he should lay himself down on a platter for his partner, it was only fair that Jim should do some of the work. Watching him get horny was fun enough, but seeing his reaction to poor John was incredible. 

Blair had made it quite clear when John had asked him out in the beginning, that he wasn't interested in a relationship, but he was happy with them being friends. Go for coffee, have a night out at a movie, but nothing physical. Of course, a certain paranoid, possessive Sentinel, had other ideas. 

He glanced over at his sleeping lover and tightened his grip on that muscular chest. There was nowhere else he ever wanted to be, but here. Even so, last night had still been something of a revelation. So, Jim went for the 'traffic cop' look huh? Jim stirred, as on a subconscious level, he heard his guide's heartbeat grow faster. That little alarm bell went off that said, 'Blair is awake.' 

"Morning," Blair purred, licking briefly across Jim's left nipple. 

"Morning yourself," Jim smiled as the most devastating blue eyes shone up at him. He pulled Blair closer until the younger man was spread across his chest like a comforter, "Why do you look like the cat who licked the cream?" he asked. 

Blair ran his tongue up Jim's throat, "Because I did, remember. I seem to remember licking just about everything last night," he grinned as he writhed and wriggled. 

"Want to do a re-tasting?" Jim enquired. 

"Mmmmm!" 

Suddenly, the telephone rang. Jim reached over and picked it up irritably, "Yeah?" he grumbled. 

"Jim?" Simon's voice said wearily on the other end, "Sorry it's so early. There's been another body found down by the harbor." 

Jim sighed, "Okay, Captain. I'm on my way," he said replacing the phone, "Sorry, Chief. Duty calls. Think you can save me some of that for tonight?" 

"Sure. Which color container shall I store it in?" 

* * *

By the time Jim and Blair got back to the PD from the crime scene, everyone was busy working. Megan smiled as Blair dropped down at his desk. 

"Hey Sandy, the guys told me what you're doing for the benefit, that's really cool of you," she said squeezing his shoulder. 

Blair smiled weakly, "Thanks, Megan." 

"Yeah, Sandburg, you're a good sport," Brown grinned. 

"Is there _anyone_ who doesn't know?" Blair asked. Everyone grinned and shook their heads. Blair groaned, "No backing out now then, huh?" 

"No way, man. We get to look like jerks, so do you!" Brown chuckled, "Rehearsal still on for tonight?" 

Blair nodded, "Yeah, last one before the big night. But we're going to need someone to work the lights," he said. 

"I'll do it!" Megan grinned, bobbing her eyebrows mischievously. 

"The hell you will," Jim answered suddenly appearing at Blair's shoulder, " I just spoke to Steve, he's out of hospital and despite being in considerable agony he insists on being the lighting guy. So one of us will have to go pick him up later." 

"Hey, great," Blair smiled. 

"It's probably the first time in my life I'm going to get more satisfaction out of losing than winning," Megan grinned at Jim. 

Returning the grin, Jim rested his hand on Blair's shoulder, "Yeah, give you a chance to see what _real_ men look like, eh Connor?" he smirked. 

"Oh, will there be some of those there too? Great!" she said wandering away giggling. 

"It's things like that, that give the 'fairer sex' a bad name," Jim grumbled, looking down at Blair. 

Blair smiled, "What man? The fact that she's sharper than you?" he sniggered. 

"Is not!" Jim exclaimed, shoving his partner in the back. 

"Is too," Blair laughed, shoving back. 

"When you children have finished playing push and shove, some work might be nice?" Simon suddenly appeared behind them. 

"He started it, Captain," Jim pouted playfully. 

"Did not," Blair replied. 

"Did too." 

* * *

The guys had propped Steve up on a chair and surrounded him with cushions. He was supplied with beer and snacks and generally fussed over by all. 

"Hey, Blair?" he said quietly, as the young man continued to plump the pillows and make sure that his leg was comfortable. 

"Yeah?" 

"I really appreciate what you're doing you know?" Steve smiled a warm appreciative smile that struck Blair straight in the heart. 

"We're friends. It's what any friend would do," Blair said with a small laugh. 

Steve shook his head, "No it's not. You...all of you, have gone way beyond friendship on this and I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it. We _all_ appreciate it," he said with a tear in his eye. 

Blair clapped his hand on Steve's shoulder, "It's our pleasure. If Richard gets better then it will have all been worth it." 

"So, Sandburg, you gonna chat all night or dance?" Jim called. 

Blair took a deep breath to force down the growing panic in his belly. Dancing for Jim was one thing, but in front of everyone...sheesh, that was something else. 

"Yeah, Sandburg, come on, let's see you shake your tail for a change," Brown teased. 

"I'm coming, quit complaining," Blair tried to joke, but he knew that the tremor in his voice was noticeable, at least it would be to Jim. "Okay," he swallowed hard, "Cue the music..." 

The routine went well, everyone was impressed with Blair, a consummate professional to the last. Especially Jim, who realized that he fell deeper and harder for his partner every time he set eyes on him. 

Jim watched as the guys filed out of the door, all wishing each other good luck for the big night tomorrow. Blair jollied and encouraged them, insisting that everything was perfect and that they would go down a storm. 

<Pity he doesn't believe it himself,> Jim thought sadly. He'd watched Blair all evening. Everyone else had commented on how confident the young anthropologist was, but Jim could see through the faade, he saw the _real_ Blair behind the smile and the bluster. The Blair who wanted to run and hide in a corner, who still for some unfathomable reason, felt he did not measure up beside the big cops. The fact that he'd left Simon speechless with his part of the routine and Rafe, salivating, meant nothing to the younger man. 'They were just being kind' he'd say. 

As the loft door closed, Blair visibly deflated. He leaned heavily against the door-post, his eyes closed. 

"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked quietly. 

"Oh man. I don't think I can do this," Blair sighed. 

Jim moved across to where his partner was slumped against the door. Sliding his arms around the younger mans waist he pulled Blair forward to rest against his chest. Just holding him made Jim feel warm inside. He slid his hand up into Blair's curls and ruffled his hair gently, "You were incredible. Everyone was impressed. You'll bring the house down tomorrow night. Connor will have to eat humble pie and I love you so much," he cooed softly. 

A short laugh echoed through Jim's chest. Blair took in everything that had been said and laughed, "Oh man, you are some piece of work," he giggled, "and yeah, I love you too," he looked up into Jim's blue smiling eyes and melted. "What if I _freak_ in front of everyone?" he asked. 

"You won't," Jim replied, placing a kiss on the younger mans forehead, "You'll go out there, do your stuff, wow everybody with that fantastic body of yours and leave 'em gasping and yelling for more." 

Blair laughed again, "You're not, maybe, a little..biased here. Are you?" he teased. 

Jim pouted, "No. Well, maybe just the tiniest bit," he smiled, "I know what that body does for me, so why shouldn't it work for everyone else?" 

"Oh man, what am I to do with you?" Blair sighed, "You want some supper...or shall we just go to bed?" 

Jim's face broke into a grin, "Guess." 

"Last one up the stairs gets breakfast," Blair grinned, pulling away suddenly and setting off at a run. 

"Sandburg," Jim protested, "That's cheating!" 

* * *

The fateful night had come at last. As the audience filed through the doors of the small downtown club, Jim peered through the curtain at the side of the stage. Nervously he swallowed.  <At least I know how the Christians felt, just before they were tossed to the lions,> he thought. He watched as the women filled the seats, chattering and laughing. Hell, he was a cop. He'd faced armed lunatics, terrorists, kidnappers and hijackers, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer terror that this audience of normal, usually rational, women was striking within him right now. Man, they looked _hungry_. 

"Hey, Jim," Blair hissed, "Come on, man. Time to get into your costume." 

Jim shook his head, his eyes never leaving the increasingly boisterous crowd for a moment, "Can't do it, Chief," he mumbled. 

Blair grabbed his partners arm and swung him around. Angry blue eyes searched Jim's gaze, "Don't give me that, Ellison," he growled, "Pull yourself together, go get into your costume and get your ass into gear. Or would you like me to walk out there and tell everyone it's off because James Ellison is a spineless wuss?" 

"Sandburg?" Jim replied irritably. 

"Maybe Connor was right. Men aren't 'what they used to be'," Blair taunted. 

"Fuck you, Sandburg," Jim growled. 

"Sure, later. Now go get changed," Blair shoved Jim hard, sending him tumbling towards the dressing room. 

"Pushy little bastard," Jim muttered as Blair moved up behind him digging him in the back sharply. 

"You're breaking my heart, here," Blair sighed, "Just get in there and quit bitchin'." 

As Jim half fell into the room where all the other men were already changing, he shot Blair an angry glance. The younger man appeared to not have noticed, or if he had, not to care. 

"How's everybody doing?" Blair smiled. 

"Is suicide an option?" Simon asked. 

"No way, man. There's no get out clause in this one!" the young man laughed. 

"Man, I never thought I'd be this shit scared," Brown muttered. 

Rafe smiled gently, "I feel kinda calm," he said with a slight sigh. 

"That's bad, ma man," Brown warned, "You usually get that just before you die." 

"I don't know why you 'boys' are making such a big deal about this," Joel laughed. 

"Listen to Mr 'I-got-nothing-to-be-ashamed-of'," Simon grumped. 

"Well, brother, _I_ haven't!" Joel laughed more loudly. 

Simon pulled a face, "Neither do I," he insisted, "At least, I've never had any complaints." 

"Hey, we're not going to get into a 'size' thing here, are we?" Brown asked. 

Rafe grinned, "Why, don't think you'll measure up partner?" he sniggered. 

"Well, fuck. Listen to Mr Confidence tonight. Who's been pissing his pants over this every day since we got involved?" 

Blair stepped into the fray, "Gentlemen, please. This is _so_ not the time to be doing this," he warned, "We have five minutes and I'd suggest that you use them trying to calm yourselves, not start squaring up like pit-bulls." He shot a look at his partner and smiled gently, "Let's go out there and kick ass. Show Connor what we can do huh?" 

Joel chuckled, "The kids right. Lets prove that American men can still shake it!" 

The tension evaporated as everyone began to laugh, sniggers became guffaws and soon they all had tears of mirth in their eyes. 

Blair whooped, "Let's rock." 

* * *

Standing in the wings, waiting for the announcement, Jim leaned over Blair's shoulder, "So, how come you're so sure of yourself all of a sudden?" he asked, "You haven't been licking frogs or anything, have you?" 

Blair smiled, "No! Let's put it this way partner, I missed my vocation when I decided not to go into theatre studies and concentrate on Anthropology." He held his hand before him. It trembled uncontrollably. 

Jim leaned close to Blair's ear, "I love you," he whispered. 

Blair nodded and added, Sentinel soft, "Feelings mutual, lover." 

* * *

"So, let's hear it for the guys from Cascade PD!" the announcer yelled. 

The cheer that went up almost shook the building. As the music began, the six men strutted onto the stage. Three at a time they moved to the front of the stage, then began their individual parts of the routine. 

Blair watched as Jim performed faultlessly, the old Ellison ego back in the saddle as he peeled off the clinging leather to reveal toned muscles covered with taut, tanned skin. He was a truly breathtaking man, Blair thought. He wasn't sure what he'd done in his last life to deserve such a perfect specimen of manhood as a lover, but he was deeply grateful to whatever it was. 

Joel was next up. The older man dripped confidence, he tore off the layers like a professional, egged on by the screams from the crowd. 

Brown was by now, terminally nervous, he fumbled with the catch on the fire-fighters jacket, but soon pulled it back to finish his routine with a flourish. 

Simon performed with his usual charm and humor. And, Blair thought, he was quite right when he said that he was suitably 'equipped' for the task, as he stripped to his leather thong, he _more_ than filled the 'directive', Blair decided appreciatively, as did the audience, by going wild. 

Rafe was the biggest surprise of all. Despite initial misgivings, he performed a flawless routine and looked stunning.  <Oh yeah, if I didn't have Jim, you would _definitely_ be high on my list, > Blair smiled to himself. 

The familiar cue began, Blair swallowed, but his throat was dry and he couldn't even swallow air. <I can't let the guys down, come on Sandburg, get with it,> he thought and before any other area of his body could seize, he began to move down the center of the stage. The cheer that went up almost knocked him off his feet. Wolf whistles echoed through the room, heard even above the thudding music. Blair found himself grinning. He slid the jacket from one shoulder in a slow, seductive movement, then the other shoulder. Pulling the jacket tight around himself, he turned his back on the crowd and shook his hips, the orgasmic sounds emanating from the women almost made him chuckle. 

Flinging the garment aside, he half turned and started to slowly unbutton the shirt, one button, pause. Another button, shoot them a wicked glance. Soon the shirt was flapping open and Blair was twirling around, the shirt-tails floating in the air. The sight of his hairy chest sent up another whoop of ecstasy from his captive audience. Discarding the pale blue shirt, he began to run his hands down his body, first through the dark hair on his chest, following the trail down to his pants. He grasped the leather belt, jerking it out of the belt loops, bending it and whipping his thighs. The audience was on its feet. 

Throwing the belt into the women, another scream shook the walls. He continued his journey, caressing his inner thighs, working his way down his legs to where the loops were positioned. Taking a hold, he pulled the pants off with one sharp movement. The place erupted, women chanted and screamed, whistled and yelled. In a moment he was joined by the rest of his team, all that was left now was the final obstacle, the skimpy leather thongs and lights out. 

The music beat a heavy rhythm, on a mental count of three, the men pulled off the G-strings. 

Jim almost collapsed from the noise as the women went wild. But, the lights hadn't gone down. There they were, all standing together like a bad Frat house joke, waving their 'best friends' at the audience. 

"Steve!" Jim bellowed. 

In unison, the six men yelled, "LIGHTS!" 

* * *

Cascade Police Department, Monday morning and the bullpen resembled a frenetic Sunday market. Women hustled and bustled, waving ten-dollar bills in the air frantically. 

"Okay, I'm going as fast as I can ladies," Megan's voice said from somewhere within the melee. 

Jim frowned as he and Blair walked in, "What's going on here?" he asked. 

A round of applause greeted the two men. 

Jim held up his hands and thanked everyone with mild embarrassment. He peered at the crowd surrounding Megan's desk, "Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?" he asked. 

"Jim!" Megan grinned, "Congratulations. It's looking like we raised _over_ ten thousand dollars already," she chirped. 

"Great," Jim answered. He stopped a woman who was walking away with a videotape. "What's this?" he asked. 

"The tape of the show. The ladies are paying twenty dollars a shot for them, " she beamed. 

Jim's stared in horror, "You're selling _video's_ of us _stripping_?" he gasped. 

"Yeah." 

"Connor! You're talking about _police officers_ here. For God's sake, one of which is the police Captain!" Jim stressed. 

"No worries. I'm only selling them to those who had tickets on Saturday night. They are all Cascade PD officers and civilian staff and totally trustworthy," she brushed off Jim's concerns with a shrug. 

Turning to a speechless Blair Jim mumbled, "I'm going to kill her. You really think that there's anyone back home going to miss that damned woman?" 

Blair shook his head in desperation, "Oh man," he muttered. 

"Someday, someone's going to whip your ass for you," Jim growled at the smirking woman. 

Eyeing him defiantly, she laughed, "Want to bet on that?" 

The End 


End file.
